Taro Hokkyo (Prepared Angela Kosta)
Moderator 
BIOGRAPHY TARO HOKKYO
1998 received the Rekitei Newcomer Award in Japan. 2019 invited by Master Ngo of Taiwan to write haiku for World Haiku and started writing haiku on the internet. 2020 Richard Vallance of Ottawa, Canada invited me to write here as well, spreading my haiku around the world. 2021In Arabic-speaking countries. Mahmound Al-Rajabi and Ragbi published a collection of my haiku. 2019 published four books of haiku in the Arabic-speaking world starting in 2019. Winner of the Arab Golden Planet Award. 2022 Arabic-speaking countries awarded the title of Doctor of Literature. 2023 my poems published in the Albanian magazine: Gazeta Destinacioni, "Orfeu.al - Kosovo and Alessandria Today in Italy. 2024 ny poem is published in "Daily Global Nation" in Bangladesh. My poem will be published in Polis Magazine, Greece. Received a letter of commendation from Poets UK. My poems were published in a Korean magazine. Poem published in Koltaka jishu International Poetry Magazine, India Poem published in a Greek electronic magazine. Poem published in Poetry Planetariat, Nepal. A collection of my poems was published in Bengali-speaking countries. Three of my poems published in Half-Yearly magazine in India. Three of my poems were published in Raft of Dreams Literary Magazine. One of my poems was published in Hyperpoem, Nepal. 2024 my poem published and in MIRIADE magazine paper in Italy.
ON THE MONTHS IN THE WILDERNESS
Revision
Even if I cover my chest with my hands, my soul is gripped, and its bitterness blackens the memory of the best times of my life. Habits spin around my brain without any way to become actions, as the routine of my life is suddenly severed. The color of my life is filled with emptiness, and the isolation caused by this emptiness has created a wilderness of self-mockery as a reaction.
Even if I could avoid being swallowed by the sandstorm, I would not be able to get rid of the dust that aches in my body and soul as long as I live. In the wilderness that I had once shown on a map, I was suddenly banished and forced to stand there in rags. Then, after spending many months asking unanswerable questions about life and love, I foolishly lost those months as well.
Each of us has our own daily life, which forms a flow with its own curvature and stagnation. The accidental, unceasing ripples of the river move across the wide, inevitable riverbed, but despite the levees that have been constructed ahead of us, the river continues to overflow, increasing its volume. The accidental wave will break again, and the water level is unmeasurable!
Reality with illusion and illusion with reality. Even if our words and perceptions coincided with each other, I still had to be astonished at the vastness of the area where reality and illusion intersected. Rather, it is the sincerity of the train that actually bites the rails of its wheels and moves with a clatter! Run, carving the shadows and shadows of this wilderness!
WHAT COMES AFTER THE SEASONS
The seasons are gone. A scorching storm raged outside the room. The faded navy blue shirt lost its colour even more. The dishes that had been devoured were washed with poison. There was nowhere for us lonely people to go. Still, we had to go to the soul-destroyed town to earn a little sustenance for the day.
I bought a boneless chicken with the coins I had taken out of my pocket. He put it in boiling water, plucked out its feathers, cut its neck with a knife and squeezed its blood into a clear glass cup. He then cut open the belly and scraped the guts out into a black, dirty polyethylene bucket and stuffed the intestines. The tough, emaciated flesh was roasted over a fire. The blue fire made a noise and a blue flame with each drop of fat.
We had to arrange the plates and divide the chopped meat as evenly as possible. We had to eat some of the poison to survive. Even so, after the meal we felt the blood rushing to our exhausted bodies. Our poisoned brains could no longer believe as they were. Is it possible for us to chant for love and peace and not kill each other?
NO NEED WORDS
Lost oars. Lost boats. There is no use in counting them. What does it say about love? Our hands that are joined together. Maybe life is too short to talk about love. I will do all I can. I'll do what I can so I don't lose you again. Maybe true love is not to ask too much. A love that does all it can to take care of you. Woman. If that is a boat, a man is just an oar.
You are the boat and I am the poor helm. That's all the route I can take. Maybe that is what I wanted. What I have learned in the long voyage is sincerity. The light that is born in the hands of both of us. A light that comes from our cold hearts into the hands of both of us. That's all you and I knew and forgot.
A quiet, very quiet flame of passion. In this cold world of violence and graves, it is enough for two people who love each other to join hands. Our world is nothing more than a small light between our hands, here and now. We hold hands and look at each other. We don't need words to say we love.
Prepared Angela Kosta
